She Only Likes Me When She's Drunk
by TuesdayNovember
Summary: Draco is intrigued by the only Slytherin girl who is able to resist his charms, and vows he won't rest until he's conquered her. Twoshot.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter story, and any feedback would be greatly appreciated.**

**The story was inspired by, and takes its name from, a song by the Stereos.  
Neither the song nor the characters belong to me.**

**Rated M for sexual situations and underage drinking. You've been warned.**

* * *

Pansy was sitting on the couch beside me. Though I suppose the word 'beside' conveys more distance. In reality, she was very nearly sitting on my lap. She leaned against my shoulder, one hand on my leg, the other wrapped possessively around my neck. She was whispering.

"Ohh, Draco, I can't wait to go to your room tonight. Get on my knees, take your big, hard..."

In truth, Pansy's dirty talk had long ceased to excite me. But I contented myself to sit on the couch by the fire, allowing her to trace little circles onto my inner thigh. I know I looked a sight to be envied, but there were a hundred other places I would rather be. Instead, I ignored Pansy's fruitless ministrations and let my eyes graze on the more interesting sights of the Slytherin common room.

The Dark Lord's rise had worked something strange into the school, in more ways than one. The Slytherin girls were – if possible – more willing to be bedded than ever, but the Ravenclaws, who had always been available when necessary, were more distant this year. Not that I minded, of course, with the surplus of girls from my own house, but the eventual lack of choice troubled me.

Lazily, I scanned the room. Millicent met my gaze for an instant before blushing obscenely and lowering her eyes to the book in front of her. Typical. This petty – though I suppose they thought it was _pretty_ – shyness was the norm with all the girls who dared meet my gaze.

All but one.

In a shadowy corner, an almost pretty brunette caught my eye. She looked up from her book lazily and met my gaze. If her tiny stature were any sign, she was young, probably a fourth or fifth year, so I expected her to turn crimson and avert her gaze instantly. When she didn't, I allowed her the pleasure of seeing the corners of my mouth turn up in a smirk. The look she gave me was not one of blushing innocence, but a sneer.

"What are you looking at, my dragon?" Pansy's voice was husky and low in my ear. Her tongue flicked my earlobe in what she thought was a sexual gesture.

"I hate it when you do that." I growled at her, not bothering to answer her question. She lowered her gaze in submission. "Who is that?" I asked her, jerking my head in roughly the same direction as the unblushing girl.

"Her? She's that bitch Daphne's little sister. Her nose is always in a book. Should've been a Ravenclaw, stupid brat. Why?"

I shrugged, feeling no need to elaborate on my curiosity.

* * *

When I gave no indication that Pansy's feminine attentions were needed, she left the common room early in the evening. Left with nothing to do, I sought an ally for the night. Zabini would have been my first choice, but he was otherwise engaged, so I found Nott instead. Our conversation, I'll admit, was not blazingly brilliant, but it did have on pleasurable result: a house party had been planned. Nott, apparently, was quite the drinker and had a number of methods of smuggling enough Firewhiskey into the school to get the whole Slytherin house – first years included – pleasurably drunk. Of course, there was no way first years would be invited to the party, and 'pleasurably drunk' was only halfway to the desired result.

When Nott retired, the common room was nearly empty. Not yet tired enough to leave, I remained on the couch, stretched luxuriously before the fire. I'm not sure how long I stayed like that, but when I looked up, the common room was empty, save for 'that bitch Daphne's little sister', the unblushing girl.

Something about her intrigued me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was striding across the room towards her. In her shadowy corner, the girl was so engrossed in her book that she didn't seem to realize I was there until I sat beside her with a loud 'ahem'.

She jumped.

"Can I help you?" she snapped. That kind of confidence was not seen in fourth and fifth years. Perhaps she was a sixth year.

I didn't bother answering her. Instead, I picked up her book and turned it over critically. "_Intermediate Dark Arts_ by Selphyn Proust. You're a fifth year?"

"Apparently." She snatched the book out of my grasp.

"You seem to be struggling a bit with that." I leaned in closer, "If you'd like some help, my bedroom is always available for private tutoring. You don't need to worry that I don't know what I'm doing, I've helped quite a few girls with the more difficult subjects."

She pulled away, "Poor them."

Should have been a Ravenclaw indeed.

* * *

The following evening, I found myself once again alone with Daphne's sister. She was bent over a book in the same shadowy corner as the night before. There was something about her that compelled me to her, and I knew I wouldn't be able to rest until I added her to the list of my accomplishments.

I dropped myself beside her, "Astoria, what a pleasure seeing you again." Some perfectly sanctioned eavesdropping at breakfast had informed me of her name.

"Malfoy." She said flatly, by way of greeting.

I smiled at her, and took it as a good sign when she closed her book and looked up at me.

"You know, Theodore Nott and I have been planning a party." She nodded. "Strictly for the seventh years," another nod, "But we'd be willing to bend the rules for you." Her eyes were expressionless. "Would you like to come to a seventh year party?"

She sat in silence for a moment, watching me.

"No."

* * *

Over the following few weeks, I found that I was seeing Astoria every evening, and that she was just as stand-offish as the first night. Flirting with her was a fruitless endeavour, so I found instead that we took to exchanging insults. I hoped instead to convince her of coming to the party, and getting her so drunk she wouldn't be able to resist the comfort of my bed.

"Up so late again? Merlin knows you need your beauty rest."

She looked up from her book to glare at me.

"What are we reading tonight?"

"None of your damn business." She snapped.

"Ah, ah. Manners, Greengrass. You'd think you were raised by muggles."

She didn't bother looking up that time. I laughed.

* * *

"Greengrass."

"What?"

"The date of the party is fast approaching. Have you reconsidered my offer?"

"No."

I smirked, "Why? Afraid you might like it?"

"I'm not afraid of anything." She said, meeting my gaze levelly.

"Well then, Greengrass, you really should come."

"Is Daphne coming?"

"All seventh years will be there." I told her.

She took a moment to contemplate. "If I come, will you leave me alone?"

I could hardly contain the twist of my mouth, "Of course."

"Fine."

* * *

On the eve of the party, Pansy had taken pains to decorate the room with green and silver balloons and streamers. I don't think I'd ever seen anything so tacky, but I figured that everyone would be so drunk they wouldn't notice the atrocities that adorned the walls.

"Oh Draco, tonight is going to be _wonderful_." She purred into my ear.

"It damn well better be, with all the effort I put into this." I pushed her away, in no mood for her advances.

"Malfoy!" Nott's deep voice interrupted my musings. "I need a partner to bring the goods from the kitchen. Care to help?"

"No, but I'll come anyway."

"Excellent." He grinned wolfishly over my shoulder at the girl who was currently warming his bed at night.

Even with magic, bringing the Firewhisky from the kitchens to the common room had been an ordeal. But it would be worth it.

At a quarter past nine, Zabini detached himself from his mirror to banish the younger students to their dormitories.

"Merlin help you if you think you can sneak out tonight." He boomed, "Since I don't think many of you would like walking around with a face that resembles rice pudding, I suggest you stay in your beds. Do I make myself clear?"

The general exodus of small bodies seemed to answer his question.

A pleased smirk passed over my face as I surveyed our room. Crates of Firewhiskey were stacked haphazardly in corners, some already opened. The seventh year boys, myself included, took the time before the girls arrive, properly dressed, to get a head start on the drinks. This meant, of course, that by the time the girls began to descend their staircase, there was a soft buzzing in my head that seemed to make everything more agreeable – even Pansy's decorations.

The girls didn't all come down at once, opting instead to descend in safe groups of three or four. Astoria was among the last to emerge, with her sister and another girl who, even half drunk, looked as ugly as an inbred.

She probably was.

Astoria, on the other hand, looked – dare I say – _nice_. Although, I reasoned, she would look even nicer naked, in my bed. But there was still time.

Pansy was the last to descend, looking more like a cheap whore than a proper pureblooded lady. I know she dressed that was to impress me, and I daresay had she done so two years ago I no doubt _would_ have been impressed. But now, with her charm wearing thin, I was about as impressed with her clothing as I was with her decorative abilities.

"Do you like it, Draco?"

I decided it would be beneficial to lie. Pulling her close, I whispered, "I love it."

She positively glowed. "Dance with me."

I don't know how long I spent dancing with Pansy, but it felt like years. Sometime during our dancing she had managed to take hold of a bottle, from which she took liberal mouthfuls at regular intervals. She got tired eventually – of me or of dancing, I couldn't be too sure – and threw herself on the couch to enjoy the company of another incredibly drunk girl. Very much involved in her new friend, I didn't have to worry about Pansy's prying eyes as I sought Astoria.

I found her standing awkwardly by the wall, watching the various degrees of debauchery before her. Really, she was only a few feet away from the nearest entwined bodies, but it seemed as though she and everyone else were miles apart.

"Having fun?" I leaned against the wall beside her.

She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. Apparently not.

With a lazy flick of my wand, a bottle of Firewhiskey flew into my outstretched hand. "Here." I handed it to her. She took it, but didn't drink. It occurred to me that she may have never had alcohol before.

I smirked. "You drink it." I informed her.

"I know that." She snapped at me, raising the bottle to her lips and taking a long time to let a few drops trickle in. I noticed a fleeting look of disgust pass over her face as she swallowed it.

I laughed and she scowled at me. "I'll leave you to it, then. At this rate the bottle will last 'til Christmas."

I had taken a few steps towards the couch when I heard her.

"Malfoy!"

I turned, and watched her take a swig, then wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. Apparently she had taken my words as a challenge.

I smiled in appreciation and returned to her side. "Don't tell me that was your first?"

"Of course not." I knew she was lying.

We stood in silence for a few minutes. She raised the bottle to her lips a few times, and I noticed that with each mouthful she was getting a bit more flushed.

It was her that broke the silence.

"Would you like to dance?"

I grinned and let her lead me to the makeshift dance floor. Like Pansy, she took the bottle with her, and continued to drink. Unlike Pansy, however, she offered some to me. Normally I would have taken my own – I've never been fond of sharing – but even drunk I had the sense to realise that if she drank the whole bottle herself, she would be a mess before the party was even half over.

Although we were dancing together, she was fairly far away, and I assumed that she was simply as stand-offish, though rather more dance-inclined, when drunk. But sometime in the middle of a song that sounded disturbingly muggle, I noticed a change in Astoria. The gap that could have fit another two people was closed, and a hand was slung lazily over my shoulder.

She grinned at me through half closed eyes, "You're cute." Her vowels took years to end, and she was giggling stupidly, but I wasn't about to complain.

The hand holding her bottle sought my face, but sometime in the middle of this search, her grasp loosened and the bottle fell to the floor.

"Oops." She laughed and didn't bother to fix it. Her laughter was contagious, and I found myself chuckling at her clumsiness too. I laughed until she started kissing me sloppily, always missing my mouth.

"Draco?"

"Hm?" I tried to focus on her face.

"I think I need some help with my classes. Is your breadroom still avai- availabable?"

Triumphant, I smirked and lead her upstairs. The journey took an inordinate amount of time, because she kept slipping out of my grasp. When we finally managed to get upstairs, she threw herself on my bed and smiled at me. I think she was trying to look sexy, but the flood of giggles ruined the effect.

As I watched her on my bed, eyes glowing, cheeks pink, giggling, pulling at her clothes, I stopped. I stopped and watched her drunken attempts to remove her clothing – all entirely unsuccessful – and I couldn't do it.

When she realized I wasn't helping with her undressing, she scowled melodramatically at me, looking like a petulant child. A sudden lucidity broke through my drunken stupor, and I said,

"You can sleep here tonight, but that's it. I don't want you doing anything you'll regret in the morning." Or, at least, I tried to say it. The confused look on her face made me question whether I'd actually said anything that made any sense. Nevertheless, she consented and lay down, kicking off her shoes and wrapping herself into a tangled mess.

I watched her for a moment, before sitting down on the trunk at the foot of my bed, my head in my hands.

I was suddenly very, very tired.

* * *

**I'm afraid I might not have captured Draco very well, and I don't know if the story moved too quickly. So please, even if you have nothing else to say, could you tell me whether either (or heaven forbid, both) are true?**

**I would love to hear any feedback you have on this. Love it? Hate it? Indifferent?**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, wow. That took a while. But finally, here it is - Part Two!**

**Thank you everyone who reviewed, I love you all, and special thanks to those of you who asked me to continue this, it wouldn't be here without you!**

**Enjoy, you've waited long enough.**

* * *

The first thing Astoria realized when she got up was that she was in pain. Her body ached from having slept at odd angles, and she felt as though she'd been dropped from her broom a thousand kilometres in the air and landed on her head.

The second thing she noticed was that she wasn't in her own bed. The sheets were the wrong colour and they smelt of musk – all wrong. This realization sent a jolt of mixed fear and confusion through her body that seemed to worsen her headache. Trying desperately to calm down, if only to soothe her head, she pulled back the curtains and looked around.

The third thing she noticed was that she was in the boys' dormitories, and that realization, by far, was the most distressing. Questions of 'Where am I?' and 'How did I get here?' were replaced with 'Whose bed am I in?' and 'Did I sleep with him?' She tried to reassure herself that she couldn't have slept with anyone because her clothes were still on, but the fear continued nagging.

In the midst of her pain and confusion, she heard a quiet groan and a shuffle of movement at the foot of the bed, hidden behind the curtains. She would have liked nothing more than to throw herself into the bed, close the curtains and hide, but she was in too much pain to move. She was afraid any slight movement might send last night's meal upwards.

And so, heart pounding and head aching fit to burst, she braced herself as a head emerged, peering around the curtains.

Had she been in any fit condition to do so, she would have shouted the first thing that came to her mind – O_h Merlin! Oh fuck!_ – as a very tired, very rumpled Draco Malfoy came forwards. Instead, she made do with a whimpering 'no!' and, not caring if she vomited all over his bed, threw herself back into the sheets and moaned.

She stayed that way for a few minutes, until she was roused by a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder, half pulling her up. The hand belonged to Theodore Nott, who was looking almost amused but not at all sick. Draco was nowhere to be seen.

"Good night?" He asked, fighting to keep the mirth from his voice.

All Astoria could manage was a pained '_ow_'.

"Sit up." He said and handed her a cup of smoking, foul smelling liquid the colour of a swamp and the consistency of curdled milk. "And drink this."

Astoria gagged as the smell assaulted her nose. She shook her head.

"Do you want to feel like that all day?" With a scowl, she took a tiny sip of the liquid, made a face, and drank a bit more.

"No, I didn't think so." Nott said. "When you're done, leave the cup here and get back to your room before anyone notices you're gone." And with that he left, slightly rumpled robes flapping like wings behind him.

It took Astoria a few minutes to drink the liquid, only because it tasted so horrid that she didn't want to put too much of it in her mouth at once. But with each progressive sip she found her headache was being soothed. And by the time she was done, her headache was gone.

With a deep breath, she eased herself out of the bed, put the cup on the bedside table and made to leave. She was halfway to the door when Draco reappeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

Astoria was not a coward, but the last thing she wanted was to see him, because she knew it would lead only the kind of stress and unsavoury thoughts she sought to avoid. Nevertheless, a meeting would be inevitable, as Draco seemed to be blocking the doorway.

_"Move,"_ Astoria thought, _"Just move, would you?"_

But move he did not, and so as decorum demanded, Astoria said, tightly, "Good morning, Draco."

He must have had his share of Nott's potion too, because he was smirking, eyebrow arched. "Good morning, Astoria. Did you have a nice night?"

But a pleasant greeting was all decorum asked, so she responded only with a frown as she attempted to push past him. She never got to, however, because a hand closed over her arm, firm enough to stop her, but not to inflict any pain.

She glared up at him.

"Because I had a _great_ night. I just hope I was able to…ah…share the pleasure, so to speak."

The look on Astoria's face as those words slipped silkily from his mouth was one of mixed disgust and fear. She tore herself away from him and bolted out the door, practically flying out of the boys' and into the girls' dormitories.

The fifth year girls' dormitories were neat and for some strange reason, smelled faintly of lemon. Astoria didn't notice this, however, as she simply threw herself onto her bed and began to beat fiercely at the pillows. Her attack against the pillows was cut short by an annoyed voice.

"Would you shut up? It's fucking 6 o'clock." It snapped.

But Astoria was in no mood to acquiesce, and instead of shutting up, sent a hex in the general direction of the voice. The shriek that followed assured Astoria that she had hit, if not her intended target, then at least _someone_. And that was good enough.

* * *

"What did you do that for?" Nott asked from behind Draco.

"It was amusing." He said with a shrug, turning to face his fellow seventh year. "Merlin knows we need more amusement."

A barely perceptible frown flitted over Nott's face, and he was about to say, "It wasn't very amusing for her." But he thought the better of it. Instead he said,

"Did you? Sleep with her, I mean." A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was much more amusing this way.

"So _rude_, Nott." Draco said.

"So you didn't?"

His only response was a glare.

Nott laughed heartily. "Oh Malfoy, you _gentleman_. Didn't want to take advantage of a poor drunken fifth year, is that it?" More laughter. "_Adorable._"

Scowling, Draco stormed out of the room, though not before kindly telling Nott to go pleasure a Hippogriff.

* * *

Draco didn't see Astoria at breakfast later that morning, nor did he see her in the common room or the halls between classes. This was odd, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest nagging guilt that perhaps _he_ was the reason for her absence. But he continued on his day as usual, and after lunch – where Astoria was still suspiciously absent – he pushed his doubts and worries from his mind. It was ridiculous, he decided, to think about one girl for so long. And he attempted to prove this to himself by picking the first half-decent looking Slytherin girl he saw after Muggle Studies and pulling her behind a tapestry, placing far from chaste kisses at the meeting of her thighs.

Unfortunately for Draco, however, the quietly distressing guilt he had ignored returned, doubly strong, that evening in the common room, where Daphne – who was by nature as belligerent and argumentative as a scrap of parchment – shot him looks of disgust each time he made the mistake of glancing in her general direction.

This led him to the uncomfortable conclusion that he was indeed the reason for Astoria's disappearance. And he did feel the slightest bit of guilt, but he pushed it out of his mind, reasoning that there were far more important things for him to be concerned with. The capture of that muggle-fucking Potter, for example. And that bit of Astronomy homework he was supposed to hand in tomorrow and still had to copy from Pansy. Yes, those were much better things to dwell on. And with an affected yawn, he got up from the couch and sauntered over to Pansy.

Before he even had a chance to speak, however, Pansy grabbed him forcefully by the arm and led him away into a dark alcove.

Her pug face was stony and unsmiling, "How _dare _you!" She hissed, "Not only do you _take advantage _of a fucking _fifth year_, but you do it while we're _together!_" Her voice began to quaver, "Am I not good enough for you? I try to do everything for you, and you repay me by fucking some inexperienced _baby_! And Daphne's sister, of all people! I _hate_ you, Draco Malfoy! I hate you and I never, never, _never_" her voice broke, but she continued valiantly, "want to see you again!"

Tears spilling over her cheeks, she rushed off upstairs to her dormitory, causing a few of her closer friends to shoot looks of pure loathing in Draco's direction.

With a sigh, he returned to his seat, a bit annoyed that he would more than likely have to do his astronomy work himself, and bemused by how quickly his little joke had spread. At least he had some closure on Astoria's disappearance – he was indeed the reason behind it.

Seeing no other option – other than the obvious 'I just won't do it.' – Draco pulled his parchment forwards and began to work. What should have taken an hour at the most turned into an ordeal of ridiculous length, because Draco, having not paid any attention through class, found himself having to look up nearly every word, so that by the time he was done, the common room was very nearly empty.

Draco set down his work, stretched, and scanned the room. A first year was curled up asleep on a chair, two fifth years were playing chess in a corner, and a third year was bent over a piece of parchment, scribbling furiously. He was almost upset not to see Astoria in her usual corner, reading. Something made him want to set things right, but it seemed he wouldn't have that opportunity until tomorrow, at the earliest.

With a noise that was half sigh, half groan, Draco got up and, shoving his work into his bag, dragged himself upstairs. The dormitory was quiet and a bit chilly. Climbing into bed, after having washed and changed, Draco was startled by the fact that his bed smelled of alcohol and some unrecognisable but decidedly female smell. It was distracting, and he found that the odd melange of scents, coupled with the chill running through the room made it nearly impossible to find sleep.

He lay on his back for a few minutes, before ultimately deciding that sleep was simply going to elude his grasp. With a sigh of supreme annoyance, he got up and made his way back down to the common room.

If he couldn't sleep, he was at least going to be warm.

* * *

Astoria was once again absent from breakfast that morning, which, although Draco would never admit it, made him nervous. And on top of that, the fifth and seventh year girls kept glaring at him. Their glares were tempered, however, with proud, appraising looks from Zabini.

Apart from the glares that seemed to follow him everywhere and Astoria's continued absence, Draco's day went fairly smoothly. That evening in the common room, he managed to ignore the looks, and, miraculously, finish his homework before one in the morning. Tired from his lack of sleep the night before, Draco decided to forego the game of wizarding chess Nott offered and instead threw his work haphazardly into his bag and retired for the evening.

_The witch was taller and older. Curvaceous, with soft brown hair and startlingly green eyes. She was smiling enticingly at him, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. She ran a hand down his shoulders and across his chest, teasing downwards too slowly. She knelt down before him, and her hand stopped its meandering just below his belly button. _

_She began opening his robes, licking her lips in anticipation. She tugged at his underclothes; they didn't come off very easily because his – _

"Malfoy!" a voice hissed in his ear. A hand was shaking him none too gently, "_Malfoy! _Wake the fuck up!"

Draco's usual sneer was replaced with a dark, glowering look. "What the hell do you want, Nott?" He snapped.

"Just put some clothes on and go downstairs." He said, turning to leave.

"Nott!"

"What?"

He scowled, "You can't just wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me to go down to the common room. What the hell is going on?"

Nott rolled his eyes. "Just go, would you?"

Draco was seething – more angry than Nott had woken him in the middle of _that_ dream than anything else – nevertheless, he threw on the first thing he grabbed and, shooting a look of undisguised disgust at Nott, he descended the stairs.

At first glance, the common room seemed to be empty, and Draco was fighting the urge to punch Nott for waking him and sending him down for no reason when he saw a movement.

In a shadowy corner, a female figure was sitting on a chair.

Astoria.

_Goddamnit_, he thought as he moved uncertainly towards her. This must have been the reason Nott had woken him – to fix things with Astoria.

Nott certainly was a strange one – at times he almost seemed to have a conscience.

Astoria didn't seem to notice him until he was right in front of her. He shifted awkwardly. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Malfoy." She said coldly, "How nice of you to _come_." She seemed to be hinting at a morbid double entendre.

Draco's mouth twisted into a half sneer, half smile; unable to pick one quick enough, his mouth had decided to do both. He sat down beside her, unspeaking.

The silence dragged on awkwardly until Astoria finally burst, "Merlin, would you just _say_ something!"

"Ah…" He cleared his throat uncertainly, then said lightly "I haven't seen you around much lately."

"Very perceptive, Malfoy," She sneered, "Care to guess why?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Have you been sick? I hear there's a bad case of Kneazle-pox going around."

She was beyond words for a moment, opening and closing her mouth in fury.

"You idiot! Of course it wasn't Kneazle-pox! You _know_ why I haven't been around! It's all your fault, so you'd better know!"

A look of over-dramatic concern and confusion drew his brows together.

Astoria pressed her lips together tightly, "You…" she turned an absurd shade of pink, "did it." She bit out. "To _me_."

"_Oh._"He said, "You mean that thing that I said." He waved a hand lazily, as if swatting the idea away.

"_That thing that you said?_" Her voice was tight and angry.

"Mm-hm." He eyed her curiously. "We didn't actually." He said, smiling beatifically at her.

Livid, her eyes nearly popped out of her skull for how wide they went. "_WHAT?_" She jumped up, no longer caring to keep her voice down. "You mean – you mean that I missed two days of classes, that I locked myself up there" she pointed to her girl's dormitories, "that I told my _sister_, all because you – you _said something_!" She made a loud, angry noise and threw the nearest thing she grabbed – a decorative glass bowl – to the floor and stormed up the girls' stairs.

Draco sighed and leaned back in the chair. He felt a bit bad, but, he assured himself, a Malfoy never apologises, and Astoria would come round eventually. He fell asleep in that chair not long after muttering a quick '_reparo'. _

Infuriatingly enough, things didn't start looking up until a week after his meeting with Astoria. He met her in the common room that night for the first time since Nott had sent him down. It was late when he sat beside her, and he took it as a good sign that she didn't move.

"'Evening, Astoria." He said.

She made no reply. She was engulfed in _Intermediate Dark Arts_.

"How are you?"

She looked up at him coldly.

"Mm-hm. I'll take that as 'good'. Oh, what's that? You want to know how I'm doing? Quite well, thank you, Astoria. How polite of you to have asked."

Her mouth twisted to conceal the twinge of a smirk that threatened to break though.

They sat in silence for some time after that, before Draco finally said, "You know, Astoria, you really should be glad."

"Why?" She asked, before remembering that she had decided not to talk to him.

He rolled his eyes. "Would you rather I'd actually fucked you?" She blanched. "What am I saying? Of course you would. That's why you're angry, isn't it – because I only said I did. "

"You – you!" She made an angry noise. "You're impossible!"

"You know, I'm starting to take offence. What are you saying – that you're glad because I _didn't_ fuck you?"

"Would you stop using that word!" she snapped. "And I'm _not_ glad."

He grinned.

"Not like that! I'm not glad because you made me think – well you ought to know by now. And I missed two days, just sitting up there. Do you think the Carrows were happy about that? _No._ They weren't. And if I were anyone else I wouldn't have gotten off as easy as cleaning the Muggle Studies room. And now I'm behind on all my classes, and I have an assignment in Dark Arts due next Monday and I haven't even started it!"

Draco shrugged. "Think of it this way – you got a two-day holiday. And anyway, it _was_ pretty funny."

"No it wasn't." she said petulantly.

"Suit yourself. But you'll change your mind." They sat in silence for a time, as Draco watched her poring over her book.

An idea struck him, and a smirk began to tilt his lips upwards as he said, "You said you have an assignment in Dark Arts? Well, if you're behind, you know, I _do_ offer private tutoring…"

Draco's cheek stung for a good five minutes after that.

* * *

**So, what d'you think? Good? Bad? Ugly?**


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